


wires crossed

by exoticmonsters



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Abuse, Brother/Brother Incest, Dark, Degradation, Depressed Papyrus, Dubious Consent, Emotional Manipulation, Fontcest, Hate Sex, Humiliation, Implied Fellcest, Implied Swapcest, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Incest, Incest Kink, Light Masochism, M/M, Papyrus Has Issues, Pseudo-Incest, Sans Being An Asshole, Sans Has Issues, Self-Hatred, Shame, Sub Papyrus, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Underfell Sans, Underswap Papyrus, Unrequited Love, Verbal Abuse, Verbal Humiliation, Violent Thoughts, confused feelings, honeymustard - Freeform, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-03-31 18:05:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13980543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exoticmonsters/pseuds/exoticmonsters
Summary: stretch hates himself.





	wires crossed

**Author's Note:**

> vent fic
> 
> this is gross and you shouldn't read it. it was even grosser but i editted a lot out
> 
> i dont like ncest ships unless theyre super dark lmao

Stretch always knew he was fucked up in the head. Wrong. Messed up. Confused. Broken. He always knew that.

 

In a moment of rare bravery, he tried to correct the problem.

 

His brother stopped him. Saved him.  

 

A wire crossed.

 

Stretch tried to ignore the problem. He denied it. There was no way he was that fucked up. He was gross, but could he be that gross? Was it just the isolation? He didn't have friends, really, or anyone at all besides Blue. There was nothing at all about Blue that he could ever not like. Somehow, his brother was perfect. Innocent and perfect. It was terrible that he wanted to take away any part of that.

 

Stretch wanted to fix his problem, bleach his bones until the filth was gone, summon his soul and drain it until all the bad thoughts went away and nothing was left but whatever Blue needed him to be. Take away all the excess, the stupid, fucked up feelings, the confusion and the madness he clearly was experiencing. There wouldn't be much left. He was thoroughly disgusting, rotted down to the core. Corrupted. But maybe the empty shell could be the brother he was meant to be instead of this mess.

 

The only reason he didn't try to fix the worsening problem the easy way again was because Blue would be upset. He made him promise to never do that again. Sometimes, Blue was cruel. For Stretch, that was the opposite of dissuasion.

 

He needed help, but he could never admit to this. Who could he tell? Who could possibly help?

 

Help did come, through a portal through time and space itself. Like an angel… or something else.

 

Stretch met another him, briefly, but more importantly, he met another Sans.

 

Red looked just like Stretch's brother. Rougher, maybe, like he never slept, or never showered. Not too different from Stretch himself. Red cursed and swore and told jokes that made the softer set of brothers blush. He seemed to love making Blue shriek and Stretch hated himself for thinking “who could blame him?”

 

And yet the focus of Red's attention normally seemed to be on Stretch. He always tried to piss him off. Stretch was an idiot but not enough that he couldn't see the other's intent. But the joke was on Red. He liked hearing the confirmations of what a fool he was. It was nicer than his own Sans, who would prop him up with kind and thoughtful words, like a joke, because he didn't deserve any of that sweetness. If Blue knew his thoughts, he would take it all back. Blue would change his mind.

 

But Red already knew he was worthless and disgusting, didn't he? He could see it when he looked at him. And yet he stayed. They were very much the same. He wouldn't ditch him if he knew. In fact, if he confirmed it, maybe that would be better. Maybe they could be closer.

 

A wire crossed.

 

Stretch didn't know how to flirt, or how to confess, but he invited Red over often, and Red would always accept. Red’s brother, Edge, was an asshole. He never stopped by, and wanted nothing to do with any of them, so Red always lept at the break.

 

They would sit at the couch and smoke all day, some days, while Red told him jokes that were horrible in every way. And Red was always so funny, and Stretch didn't need the weed to think that. If anything, it calmed him down so he wasn't tripping over himself to laugh at every one of them. Stretch loved spending time with Red, leaning up against him, laughing at his jokes, basking in the company of someone who was so much like his brother, but not as innocent. Someone he didn't have to worry about sullying with his existence. A friend.

 

Blue didn't seem to like Red, but he always gave everyone a chance.

 

Red would laugh at Stretch's laughter. Tell him the joke wasn't that funny, he was laughing too hard, probably didn't even understand the punchline. Called him dumb sometimes. Called him warped. Stuck up and prissy, which Stretch didn't really get, because he spent most of his time sitting on a couch, smoking joints, fawning over a dude who looks like his brother, basically is his brother, smells like piss and booze, and keeps up a steady stream of insults. Objectively speaking, it was fucked up just how terrible his standards were… but that was the least fucked up thing about Stretch, and he deserved all of it. It made him feel good. Like some kind of justice.

 

One day Blue was at a royal guard thing in the capital, and wouldn't be back for a few days, and Stretch, blushing and nervous and excited and scared, invited Red over to stay a while.

 

And he said yes.

 

Things started out like normal at first, but Stretch was anxious, and Red caught on. He joked about what a dumbass he was being. It didn't sound like a joke. That made it funnier.

 

Red was telling him an embarrassing sorry about his own brother and a time he got caught in one of his own traps. Stretch was sure the story was funny, and he laughed along as hard as ever, but his attention was on Red’s mouth. On his eyelights. The way they darkened at his brother's name and brightened at his folly. The way his magic radiated just a little bit less far than Blue’s but burner hotter and brighter and made Stretch feel warm and dizzy. He looked at the scar on his face, faint but there and visible this close. A mark that could have been made by Stretch’s own hand. An obvious story that Red hadn't told yet.

 

Red finished up the story, abs waited for Stretch’s applause or amusements, but he looked confused, and, maybe, angry, that he wasn't getting the reception he desired.

 

And then Stretch kissed him.

 

All it was was a clacking of teeth. He just had to do it, leaning on top of Red and feeling that warmth on his bones, searching his eyes for approval.

 

He thought this was what Red wanted, and he was right. Rewarded with a chuckle and a pet on the head. “ya really are a dumbass, huh?” Stretch beamed at him. It sounded like approval.

 

Red repositioned then, setting Stretch next to him on the couch. Stretch barely avoided whining at the loss of heat and contact. He just wanted to be close.

 

All at once, things changed. A wire crossed.

 

The smaller skeleton reached into his pants and pulled out a long, thick cock, and Stretch couldn't help but stare… and stop. Was this really…? He wanted this and yet did he really want this? He never… made love… before. He was too filthy for anyone. Who would want to touch him? Was he unwilling, or just unprepared? He wasn't sure.

 

He wanted to touch it, but at the same time, he really didn't want to move.

 

“wassamatta? you don't like what you see, bro?” Stretch looked up from the other's member to the other's eyes. Maybe this was happening too fast. “maybe you want this instead?”

 

Red smirked, and suddenly he wasn't so “red” anymore, his eyes and his shaft immediately changing hue to the shade of Blue’s eyes.

 

And then Stretch really stared. Mortified. He couldn't speak.

 

“what? you think i ain't noticed? not everyone's dumb as you, dude. you want this or no? cuz i can go back to my place and beat this one out myself and you can do whatever you do. alone.”

 

Red made a show of going to get up off the couch, stuffing the bright blue dick back into his now-tented shorts. Stretch never moved so fast to throw his arms around him and pull him back down onto the couch.

 

Stretch closed his eyes and thought of Blue. Blue fucking his mouth. Blue holding his jaws open. Blue laughing at his expense. His fucked up big brother who always deserved this.

 

Soon, Stretch was moaning around the cock in his mouth, feeling more and more aroused by the second. Every time he opened his eyes to see the glow of blue, he closed then again in pleasure with a moan. He wanted his little brother, needed his little brother, and he was so happy to finally do something for him. Even if it wasn't him.

 

“you been a bad boy. teasin your brother, tryina act like yer so smart and so much fucking better than your big brother, huh?”

 

Red tasted like the smell of burning tires and musk.

  


It was a long hour.

 

Red liked to talk. He did his best to be as humiliating as possible, but it was like a rollercoaster ride of arousal. Sometimes he would say exactly the right thing to get Stretch going hot, but most of the time, it felt like Red was talking to someone that wasn't him. He dutifully took the punishments and insults meant for someone else.

 

“you think yer the next king a the underground but here you are, taking brother's dick like a bitch. yer pathetic.”

 

A wire crossed, and he did his best to enjoy that. Like he wasn't even good for anything besides standing in for someone else's dirty laundry. Not that he was doing much standing.

Mostly, he was being used and filled with every insult and every frustration that Red had to air, and it felt right that it was as miserable and painful as Red could make it.

 

“look at you, mr. high 'n mighty, split open for your big bro, whinin and cryin on the couch while I fill ya…” Stretch only realized he was crying when Red said it. “cmon, tell me how much you want it.”

 

Stretch didn't say a thing. It was too much, and too rough, but he deserved this kind of treatment, so he just sobbed and kept going.

 

Red came, filling his insides with something almost as gross as what was already there. He didn't pull out, flopping over on top of Stretch with his full weight. Stretch was left wanting, but he didn't have any right to want, and being a coward, he was afraid to ask for more. Red might just give it to him.

 

He laid there uncomfortable and uncertain. What happened? And what was he supposed do, now? And what about later, when Red came by again? Would this be every time? The rest of the weekend? Would Red leave, now that he knew how gross his dumbest friend was?

 

Were they even friends?

 

He must have really started sobbing, because Red was shifting to get a better look at him, glaring like he just ruined the moment. It was funny. He hadn't even noticed.

 

Red clacked his teeth to Stretch’s cheekbone stroking it gently with a thumb. “hey, cmon, was it really that bad?”

 

Stretch stared at him, really looked into his eyes. Red was red again. But he actually looked fond for once. Maybe concerned? He looked like Blue now more than ever. Nice. Cruel.

 

Stretch was never more embarrassed than he was in that moment: crying on a couch underneath some guy who looked just like his brother. Even that night, when he was broken and permanently weaker, barely hanging on because little brother just had to save him, because he thought the refuse was worth salvaging. Blue was smarter than him, but his stupidity must have rubbed off. It hurt to see him worried. Blue should be innocent. He should be protected from this shit. Blue should be happy all the time, and Stretch knew without him he would be.

 

This was so much worse. He couldn't hide his stupid, fucked up feelings anymore. “I'm in love with my brother, so I fucked my only friend and it wasn't even good” was so much worse than “I want to die.”

 

He wanted to ask Red to end him. It didn't break a promise if he wasn't the one doing it, right? Maybe Red would enjoy killing someone who looked like his brother.

 

“you wanna do this again tomorrow?” Stretch asked, proving just what an idiot he was.

 

Red laughed. “why wait for tomorrow?”

 

When Blue got homea few days later, Stretch was still laying in the couch, high and quiet. 


End file.
